


Quick & Dirty

by BananaFana0883



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2016)
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 04:24:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5402894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaFana0883/pseuds/BananaFana0883
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick little one-shot written in honor of Turtle Pants (as featured in the new 2016 trailer)</p>
<p>This is pure smut.  No names, no distinguishing characteristics.  Let your imaginations fill in those details.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quick & Dirty

His blood was up from the fight.  There was no doubt in your mind that he'd come out on top - your man didn't lose - but the scrape on his knee, still seeping blood, and the jagged scratch along his forearm proved it had been just enough of a struggle to get the adrenaline pumping strong through his body and it put a dark and dirty gleam in his eyes.  He wanted you.  He wanted you bad and every line of his body proved it, the set of his shoulders sending your heart skipping, your breath hitching as he stalked toward you with a swagger that made your knees go weak.  

 

And you wanted it; wanted everything he promised in that heated, almost feral, gaze.  You wanted it just as much as he did . . .

 

There was no hesitation as he reaches you, mouth landing hot on your own as he pushes you back against the wall, holding himself off of you with his hands braced beside your head, scant inches separating your body as he showers your mouth, neck, shoulders with fevered kisses and nips that were just this side of painful.

 

A whimper escapes, your body aching for him to press that solid hardness against you, and your hands find the skin along his sides, the hard play of muscles that sends your head spinning . . .

 

"Touch me," you beg against his lips.

 

And suddenly he is, pressing you into the wall and forcing a gasp from your lips, the solid planes of his plastron nearly crushing as he groans against your throat, the pure desire in his tone sending a cramping wave of lust through your core that leaves you reeling.  

 

His hands are everywhere at once, overwhelming your senses and everywhere they touch, fireworks explode under your skin.  His hands are both rough and smooth as they trace over your sides, the contrast stark and tantalizing and you want more.  Those hands push the straps of your tank top down, then travel back down to boost you up, one impressively muscled arm hooking under your leg as he pins you against the wall with his body.

 

You finally feel your brain catch up with your body and you can move again, your own hands trailing over pebbly scales, knuckles scraping lightly across his plastron as you manage to get your hands between you both to work at his belt.  He's straining against his pants, the fabric pulled tight, and he presses against your satin-covered cunt with a frustrated growl.  "I need you," he whispers, voice low and rough with arousal.

 

"I know," you answer, and there's a tinge of smugness in your tone.  You're the one this gorgeous creature wants.  You.  It's a heady thought, dredging up pride and maybe a bit of disbelief that you managed to get so lucky.  

 

He can't wait any longer and you don't care.  You're dripping for him, panties soaked, and the pop of a button has your pulse skyrocketing with excitement, the sound of zipper teeth parting bringing forth an eager moan as, one handed, he shoves his pants down over his hips and frees his length . . .

 

And then he's pushing the crotch of your panties aside, dragging the calloused pad of a finger across your folds and teasing your entrance.  Your head falls back against the wall, eyes drifting closed as a honey-sweet sigh parts your lips--

 

Only to be quickly swallowed by a gasp as his hips flex and he begins to push inside you.  He's huge, and despite how wet you were for him, he needs to work to sheath himself inside you, short thrusts that bring him just a bit deeper every time.  Your hands grasp the ridge of his shell that curves over his shoulders, arm muscles tensing even as you consciously relax your pelvis and allow him deeper.

 

You watch his face, the flex of the muscle in his jaw as he grits his teeth, the way his brow furrows as he pulls your scent deep into his nose and he can feel you watching him.  His eyes blink open and your gazes lock, the intimacy of the moment making you feel as if you're falling straight into the impossible depths of his eyes.  And then his lips twitch into a smirk and your find yours doing the same.  "Fuck me hard," you demand.

 

And he doesn't need to be told twice.  Your body has adjusted and made room for him, clenching along his shaft as he does just what he's told, the roll of his hips sharp but lacking any sort of rhythm.  He just needs to be right where he is, pressed against you until you're sure he's going to sink straight into your skin, buried so deep inside your velvety warmth that you're sure he's filled you to the brim . . .

 

He fucks you, deep and primal, and there's no room for words as gasps and moans and growls of pleasure fill the hallway.  You ride wave after wave of orgasm, your body trembling and his hips jerking as he follows you straight off the cliff, tumbling head over heels into bliss . . .

  
  



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